Twist of Fate
by Homicide-Inside
Summary: Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through. CrEek. Told in Kenny's POV Inspired by Love at First Sight by Wislawa Szymborska. WARNING: EPIC FAIL. D:


**Twist of Fate**

By: Noodle Doodle

**Disclaimers: **This story is inspired by the strophe _Love at First Sight_ by Wislawa Szymborska. I do not own the genius that is South Park. How many times do I have to say this?

**Author's Notes: **The crappiest ever. I wanted to write something that's based of the strophe, but didn't know how. Then I thought about Kenny and his deaths and decided to make him narrate the story. It makes sense, actually. The thing I'm disappointed of is that Kenny sounded unKennylike. I haven't really mastered writing in Kenny's point of view, so it really sucks. ): But I tired. Just for you guys in time for Valentine's Day. I personally dislike V-Day, but since I'm too obsessed with CrEek, I decided to do a little something for them. XD

Again, apologies for the disgusting excuse of a story. **Tell me what you think about it! **I'll be grateful to know your views on this one, negative or positive. Thanks!

* * *

One thing is certain: that I, Kenny McCormick, found the Brightside of dying every day. Well, _used _to die every day. Now I die only a few times every week. My record is living for as long as two weeks. And trust me, it hurts to watch people stare at my lifeless body after an accident and say: "Oh, he'll come back tomorrow." What if I _didn't_ come back? Would they notice _then_ and start mourning? Would it take them months? I didn't like that thought at all.

But when I die, I have this ability to watch anyone I wish to. And this is the '_brightside_' I discovered. And knowing my own self, I'm a very curious guy. And so I thought about who could be interesting enough to watch. I scratched Cartman off the list—I didn't and will never care about how the Nazi Fatass Pussy lived his life. I removed Kyle and Stan off the list as well—I've had enough of their _Super Best Friend_-ship and their gay tendencies. And that's when I had an epiphany: Craig Tucker.

I never really understood the guy. Always so mysterious and aloof. And never fails to piss me off. And so I observed. Every time I die, I make it a point to watch him in particular. And that's when I notice something peculiar.

Craig and Tweek are both certain that a sudden surge of emotion bound them together. And I don't question their relationship. But it's actually funny to see them hook up just recently. Trust me, you have no idea what I'm talking about unless you die and follow Craig everywhere. And I don't mean that in a Stalker kind of way.

You see, Craig and Tweek have been bumping into each other for countless of times before actually _interacting_. Bumping into each other not in a physical sense, but meaning that they've been graced by each other's presence without their knowing. Sure, they've never met before, but these two have been passing by each other along the hallways, the streets and staircases. They just fail to notice one another.

I want to ask them whether they remember that moment wherein they met face to face in the revolving door at the mall. Tweek was about to exit at the wrong side just the same time as Craig was about to enter. And when Tweek realized he went the wrong way, he ran off and started spazzing. Of course, Craig didn't notice him. He had been banging his head to the tune of _Risky Business_ by The Cab on his iPod.

Or that time when Craig had muttered a '_Sorry_' in the crowd when Tweek was buying himself a Strawberry ice cream from the nice street vendor.

Or that time when Tweek was to call some kid in his class for the project but accidentally dialed Craig's house. Craig had bluntly replied '_Wrong number_' and Tweek slammed the phone down in panic.

But I know their answer: No, they don't remember.

They'd be amazed to hear that chance had been playing with them, not quite ready yet to become their destiny. It pushed them close, drove them apart, blocked their way and, suppressing a giggle, jumped to the side.

There were signs, as I believe they are. I recall that certain leaflet that flew from shoulder to shoulder. And that time when Craig picked up a ball under the bench near Stark's Pond—Tweek's ball from ages ago when he was 6.

There were doorknobs and whatnot where touch piled on touch. Who knew that they had already held hands, though not physically? And their bags left outside the Convention Hall side by side. Didn't they catch each other leaving theirs at that spot? And what about that night when they had the same dream about the fields, the cloudy sky and gallons of ice cream suddenly erased after waking?

It's amazing to see this all happen. And who knows? Perhaps when I lived on certain days, they continue encountering each other.

But now I am content, for that pesky Chance had decided enough is enough, and finally tied their red strings of Fate, both in love at first sight.

But is it really first sight? Maybe it would be _their_ first, but they will never know. Because what I've seen is my own little secret, and I'll live on knowing that beauty is such a certainty, but uncertainty is more beautiful.

I should go back to dying everyday.


End file.
